


Practice Makes Perfect

by purplelacemoon



Category: Billary - Fandom, Political RPF
Genre: Billary, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 19:59:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9673865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplelacemoon/pseuds/purplelacemoon
Summary: Just some fluffy domestic bliss Bill and Hillary living out their early days in Arkansas





	

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so Silently is a bit heavy at the moment and I know a few people were wanting to read some billary that was a little bit happier and fluffier, especially seeing as everything else happening in the country/world is generally pretty depressing at the moment. So this was meant to be just fluff but it kinda ended up turning into domestic billary... but either way I hope it makes you guys smile! :)

_1975\. Fayetteville, Arkansas._  
  
The warm glow of early autumn sunshine streamed steadily into the bedroom causing Bill to slowly stir awake. He blinked his eyes open and reached out to the other side of the bed expecting to find Hillary’s sleeping form laying next to him, but to his surprise her side of the bed was empty. He sat up and blinked, wondering where she could be, and it was then that he registered the faint sounds of pots and pans clattering in the kitchen. Sniffing the air curiously, he realized he could smell cooking. But not the expected sweet and inviting smell of pancakes or coffee that one might expect at this early hour of the morning, it was something curiously rich and savory.  
  
He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and slipped into a pair of boxers and a t shirt before heading downstairs to investigate. As he reached the bottom of the stairs he found the kitchen door ajar, and he quietly pushed it open to reveal Hillary standing in the middle of quite an impressive amount of mess for only 8am in the morning, especially considering they had left the kitchen in an immaculately clean condition before going to bed the night before.  
  
Hillary had her back to the door, and so she wasn’t immediately aware of Bill’s presence. She was studying the back of a can of tomatoes and Bill ran his eyes down her body approvingly. She was wearing one of his pale blue shirts and had her hair pulled messily back into a ponytail. His shirt was considerably too big on her, and the hem reached almost midway down the creamy skin of her thighs. As she reached down into a lower cupboard he caught a glimpse of the navy lace of her underwear, the only other garment she was currently wearing. _God she looks incredible._ He felt so lucky that he got to see her like this, fresh faced and glowing with radiance first thing in the morning. He could hardly believe this gorgeous, amazing woman would choose to be with him.  
  
_And now she was going to be his wife._ Bill’s heart swelled with joy as he thought back to the previous week when he had finally won her over and convinced her to follow her heart and say yes to his proposal, bringing them here; to this little house. With it’s screened in porch where they so often sat together and watched the world go by, it’s traditional fireplace, and its large bay window letting the warmth of natural sunlight travel across the hall toward their little dining room and their tiny kitchen. The tiny kitchen that his soon-to-be wife was now making a truly remarkable mess of.  
  
“Um, honey what are you doing?”  
  
His voice finally made Hillary aware of his presence, and she turned to him with a smile on her lips.  
  
“What does it look like? I’m cooking!”  
  
Bill walked over to where she was standing by the stove and slipped his hands around her slim waist from behind, kissing her on the cheek.  
  
“You know most people tend to prefer something a little lighter in the mornings,” he nodded at the pan of sizzling chicken and onions and the spicy aromas coming from it, “what are we out of eggs or something?”  
  
Hillary rolled her eyes and giggled. The sound of her laughter was always like music to Bill’s ears, and he could never pass up an opportunity to gently tease her if it meant he got to hear it.  
  
“I’m practicing.” Hillary explained, trying to refocus on the red peppers she was now slicing.  
  
“What, for tonight? Honey you really didn’t need to do that I’m sure whatever you do will be just perfect.”  
  
He brushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear gently. His mother was coming for dinner tonight, and they were planning on telling her about their engagement. Bill knew Hillary was nervous about it, and as this would be her first time cooking for her future mother in law she was eager to make the best impression possible.  
  
“You don’t need to impress her you know.”  
  
Hillary sighed, resting her knife on the chopping board for a moment and wiping her forehead. “I know…but it can’t hurt to be prepared. Practice makes perfect. I bought extra anyway and I think we both know cooking isn’t exactly my strongest skill set.”  
  
Bill smiled at that last comment, remembering some of her previous culinary disasters and the many calls for takeout he had made when her dishes hadn’t gone exactly to plan.  
  
“Well I don’t know about that,” Bill lowered his voice and leaned into her ear, “everything you’ve ever served up to me has tasted absolutely _divine_.”  
  
Hillary felt her cheeks flush, his breath tickling against her ear and the double meaning of his words sending a rush of heat between her thighs. She bit her lip and removed his hands from her waist, faking annoyance as she headed over to the sink to wash tomatoes.  
  
“William, if you aren’t going to help with anything useful I suggest you get out from under my feet.”  
  
He grinned but stepped aside, his eyes following her around the kitchen as she busied herself with washing, chopping, and stirring. He decided to start on the cleaning up while she cooked, as the worktop was now barely even visible beneath all the pots and pans she had pulled from the cupboards so far.  
  
“So what are you making anyway?”  
  
Hillary raised an eyebrow, “Is it really that unidentifiable?”  
  
Bill glanced into the pan and pretended to look mystified. Hillary watched his expression and swatted him playfully with the tea towel she was holding.  
  
“It’s chicken curry!”  
  
“Ow! I knew that, I’m just messing with you darlin’! It looks really…great.”  
  
Hillary frowned at his lack of enthusiasm and peered into her sauce anxiously, “do you think it needs more spices?”  
  
“I seriously doubt that,” Bill laughed, knowing her infamous tendency to over season things, “here let me try it.”  
  
He took the wooden spoon from her and dipped it into the sauce before raising it to his lips. He started launching into making a great show out of testing the flavor as though he was at some formal wine tasting, but the heat of the chilli suddenly hit him and cut his performance drastically short as he started coughing to keep himself from choking.  
  
“It’s not that bad is it?” Hillary quickly grabbed the spoon back from him and tasted it herself.  
  
“No, it’s perfect if you like having your taste buds numbed first thing in the morning.”  
  
She rolled her eyes, “it tastes okay to me?”  
  
“Well just remember not everyone has your impressive tolerance for spicy food honey.” He grinned.  
  
“Don’t tell me your mother shares the same tragically weak taste buds you have?”  
  
“Well…just maybe go a bit easier on the chilli tonight, okay?” He chuckled, before stepping in closer and wrapping his arms around her, “anyway, I don’t need to eat spicy food…just being with you is plenty hot enough for me.”  
  
She couldn’t stop herself from giggling at that, he always did manage to come out with the most hopelessly cheesy romantic lines. Bill cut off her laughter by leaning in and gently connecting their lips, and she sighed contentedly into the kiss. As her lips parted Bill tasted the hint of spice still on her tongue, and his hands wandered down her back as she threaded her fingers through his thick dark hair. They pressed themselves closer and closer together until Bill eventually broke the kiss, a sudden idea flashing into his head.  
  
“You know…there is something else we ought to be practicing, seeing as we are getting married in a few weeks.”  
  
Hillary raised an eyebrow suggestively, wondering what exactly he was referring to, “oh?”  
  
Bill caught her look instantly, “not _that_ ,” he laughed, before lowering his Arkansas drawl to the husky tone he knew absolutely melted her, “but don’t you worry, we’ll have plenty of time to get in practice for that later…Not that we need it of course.”  
  
“So what then?” She watched him curiously as he reached across the countertop and turned up the volume of the radio that had been humming pleasantly in the background.  
  
“Our wedding dance.”  
  
Her face broke into a warm smile as he offered her his hand and twirled her around, before resting his other hand on her back and leading her around the kitchen in a slow dance. They swayed to the music, fingers intertwined as they stepped across the gray kitchen tiles. As they danced, Hillary gazed lovingly up into Bill’s eyes and he gazed right back, their eyes locked onto each other, utterly captivated. Both were absolutely certain they had never felt this way about anyone before. This was undoubtedly the love of their life, and they couldn’t wait to stand up in that church and declare it in front of everyone.  
  
Neither were sure how long they had been dancing, but they were suddenly broken out of their trance by the sound of the smoke alarm piercing loudly through the kitchen. Hillary quickly turned around and gasped as she realized the chicken stock had boiled over out of the saucepan and onto the stove.  
  
“Shit!” She leaped into action grabbing a tea towel to move the pan off the heat and rescue what was left of the contents. Bill chuckled, even cursing somehow sounded endearing when it was coming from her lips. He reached up to the ceiling and switched off the smoke alarm before throwing open a window to help clear the foggy haze that had spread through the kitchen.  
  
“Maybe this practice run wasn’t such a bad idea after all,” he joked as he helped her clean up the mess on the stove, “at least you’re getting all the mistakes out of the way now, by tonight there’ll be nothing to left to go wrong!”  
  
She groaned in despair but couldn’t help but laugh at his logic. He wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulder and stilled her hand that was still scrubbing at the burnt mess on the stove.  
  
“Honestly honey it’s gonna be fine, don’t you worry.” He kissed her cheek and she rested her head on the space between his neck and his shoulder for a moment.  
  
“I hope so. And by the way you are so officially barred from the kitchen tonight if this is the kind of distraction you cause.”  
  
Bill bit his lip. “I’d say that’s fair.”  
  
He shifted back a little to give her space while she put the finishing touches to the dish, watching her delicate fingers sprinkle coriander into the saucepan before giving it a final stir.  
  
“So what are you actually planning on doing with all that darlin’?” He gestured towards the rather large steaming pan of food, “because as much as I love you I really don’t think my so-called tragically weak taste buds can handle your cooking twice in one day.”  
  
She rolled her eyes at him with a smile, “I’m giving it to Susan and Jake from next door. They’ve both gone down with the flu so I figured they’d be grateful not to have to cook.”  
  
“I love how thoughtful you are Hilly.” Bill ran his hands over her silky hair, threading his fingers through her ponytail.  
  
“I guess it’s a good job spicy food boosts the immune system.” She laughed, turning back from the stove to face him.  
  
“Well in that case they should be better in no time after one spoonful of this!”  
  
He grinned and pulled her closer toward him again, placing his hands on her waist and tugging playfully at the material of his shirt she had on.  
  
“You’re incredible, you know that right?”  
  
“You’re not too bad yourself.” She blushed slightly, unable to take her eyes off him and delighting in the way he looked at her as though she was the most precious valuable thing in all the world.  
  
“I can’t wait to marry you Miss Rodham.”  
  
She raised herself up on her toes and placed a single kiss on his lips before hugging him close.  
  
“I can’t wait to marry you too, Mr Clinton.”


End file.
